lines of yours i know by heart
by cmonace
Summary: Logan Huntzberger replays the question in his head. At night, it's the thought that keeps him from sleeping. When he wakes up, it's the first thing that enters his mind.
1. Chapter 1

_"i think my soul saw you_  
 _and thought, "forget safety._  
 _it's you i want, all burning_  
 _four walls of you.'"_  
 _-Pavana_

 **Notes:** You guys didn't think I could let the revival go by without swooping in with some new Logan/Rory fic, did you? I haven't written Gilmore Girls or Logan/Rory since I was a teenager, so this feels a bit like going back in time. For those of you that remember me from like 10 years ago, hi again! It's been awhile! Good to see you.

Heads up! There are spoilers here for Gilmore Girls: A Year in Life. Lots of spoilers. Big spoilers. Please don't continue if you haven't finished. Now that that's said, I have loved Logan and Logan/Rory for 10 years. I couldn't let his character assassination in the revival stand. Here's my take at fixing it. It'll be a few chapters.

* * *

Logan Huntzberger replays the question in his head. At night, it's the thought that keeps him from sleeping. When he wakes up, it's the first thing that enters his mind.

 _Are you really going to marry Odette?_

He changes the scene, when he considers this question now. He fixes it. He opens his mouth and doesn't say anything about a dynasty, a family legacy he doesn't even care about. _No_ , he says in his mind, _I'm not really going to marry Odette. I'm going to marry you._ He keeps it tucked away, this alternate timeline of his. He doesn't mention it when Colin or Finn ask him about Rory. He holds back when Honor calls and begs him to reconsider this sham of a wedding. It's his, this fantasy, this dream for what his life could've been. He wanted it. He thought he could have it.

But she said no.

That's what got him here, a thousand steps back from where he was years ago, even more from where he wanted to be. He asked Rory Gilmore to marry him a thousand years ago, stood in front of her and declared his love, and she turned him down. Looking back now, he can understand her decision. Looking back now, he knows it wasn't necessarily about him, but what she wanted for her life. But back then, he was devastated. He didn't know how to pick up the pieces after that. He put all his hope in her, put all of his faith in the knowledge that even if everything else in life went horribly wrong, he would still have her. And she would love him. When he lost that, he lost his way.

It didn't help that a year later, the company he started working for in California went under. He lost his job and that was it. Everything he worked for — his own career, a relationship with the woman he loved — disappeared within a year of each other. Lonely and directionless, he limped back to his father's company and found himself submitting to everything the Huntzbergers wanted. He didn't care anymore. His destiny, the one he pushed back on with everything he had, overwhelmed him.

He didn't care about about anything after that. Not until the day he saw Rory again, wearing that red dress. They reconnected .. and then they _reconnected._ All of the feelings he had for her then were still there. They never really went away. She knew he was engaged. He knew she was seeing other people. It didn't matter; they made it work when they could. Rory stayed with him when she was in London. She woke up in his bed. He made breakfast. They met for dinner and walked home hand-in-hand after work. When she was upset, she called him. When he needed to talk, he reached out to her. They slipped back into the routine so easily it was almost possible to imagine nothing had changed.

But it had. Changed. They weren't together, not really. There was no future. And every single time Logan thinks about calling off his engagement, every time he considers walking away from his family — again — a hole opens up in the pit of his stomach and swallows him. He remembers Rory handing the ring back to him. He remembers the phone call telling him that he lost his job. The last time he stepped out on his own, he failed. He can't handle that feeling again.

But a week before the wedding, he wakes up and the question is still in his head.

 _Are you really going to marry Odette?_

Logan turns over in bed, staring at the pushed back sheets where his fiancee slept the night before. She left early, going to for breakfast with some friends. He knows she doesn't love him. He knows she's cheated on him, too. It's a mutual understanding between the two of them. This marriage is a business. Nothing else. But on this morning, that thought makes his stomach turn.

He thinks of Rory, the way her face lit up when she saw him in Stars Hollow. He thinks of their dance, how comfortable she felt in his arms. He thinks of their last kiss, how the bittersweet taste still lingers on his lips. He thinks of it, and he doesn't want to let it go.

He's climbing out of bed before he realizes what he's doing. He pulls on the first clothes he finds, throws the rest into the suitcase he keeps under the bed. Anything he doesn't need, he leaves behind. If he stops to think about it, if he stops to remember all of the reasons he hasn't left yet, he'll never leave. So he doesn't stop. He finds the spontaneous, stubborn person he used to be and holds fast to it. He keeps the image of Rory in his head, and he writes a note.

He imagines Odette coming home to find him gone, an envelope propped up against the bedside lamp. When he pictures it, she's not heartbroken. And he knows he's right. She'll find someone else to marry, another dynasty to enter into, and she'll forget all about him. That's why, when he walks out the door, he doesn't feel guilty.

What they had never mattered at all.

He's going to find something that does.

* * *

Rory's writing when she hears the doorbell. For the past month, all she's done is write. Everytime she stops, she panics. She panics because there's a life growing inside of her and she doesn't know how she feels about it, or if she even wants it at all.

She writes so she won't call Logan.

She doesn't know what he would do if she told him. She doesn't want him to return to her just because she's pregnant, but she doesn't know if she'd be able to handle it if he didn't come back at all. So, she stands still. She writes and she panics and she doesn't call Logan. It's the hardest thing she's ever done. He's been her source of comfort for so long that not seeking him out feels a bit like bleeding out on the floor and not applying pressure. She thinks she might be breaking.

The talk with her father replays itself in her head every time she considers telling Logan she's pregnant. She decides that maybe it's for the best that she raise this child alone, if she raises the child at all. The Logan she knew in the final year of her relationship wasn't the one she carried on an affair with. He lost his job, he lost her, and somehow he ended up going backward. Could that man really raise a child? Did she want him to? She will always love him, every version of him. She knows that in her bones. But now, there's another life to consider.

Sometimes, Rory allows herself to wonder what would've happened if she asked Logan to leave Odette. She never did, because she felt like she didn't deserve to. She turned him down once, after all. She doesn't necessarily regret that decision. She was too young. She wasn't ready. She's ready now, though, and all she wants is Logan. But what right does she have to ask him to leave his fiancee for her? She knows Logan doesn't love Odette, but the reason why he's marrying her is none of her business. At least that's what she tells herself every time she scrolls down to his name in her contacts and forces herself to put the phone down instead.

She does that now as the sound of the doorbell echoes through the hallways. Rory's been using her grandparents' old house to write in. Emily insisted on taking it off the market until Rory finished her book. She doesn't spend all of her time there. Sometimes, she writes at her mother's house. Other times, she sits in the Stars Hollow gazebo or at Luke's counter. He even gave her the wifi password. But there's something about Richard's study that just feels right. It's where she does her best work.

She sighs, finishing up her sentence before heading out of the study. The house is empty. There's still some furniture left, but most of her grandparents' things have been moved or sold. Rory sleeps in the room her grandmother gave her years ago, but it's filled with packed boxes.

Rory's not sure who she's expecting when she opens the door, but when she lifts her eyes she nearly collapses. She wonders if she fell asleep in her grandfather's study, because this can't be reality. She must look as unsteady as she feels, because there's suddenly fingers wrapped around her wrist.

"Hey, Ace."

His words ground her and she swallows, taking a step back, forcing him to let go. Logan's looking at her like he did when he left for London all those years ago: Serious, stoic, and so, so in love. He's looking at her like he doesn't want to lose her and she's confused because he already did. Her hand unconsciously travels to her stomach. She feels sick.

"What are you doing here?" she asks, folding her arms like she can protect herself that way. "You're getting married tomorrow."

She knows the date. It's burned into her brain. The word married tastes like acid on her tongue.

He stuffs his hands into his pockets, drops his eyes to the ground, "No. I'm not."

It takes him a moment to raise his head again. It takes her a moment to remember to breathe. Those are the words she's been waiting to hear for him since the moment he told her about his engagement. She thinks back to their last Life and Death Brigade adventure, thinks back to the closest she ever came to asking him to walk away.

 _Are you really going to marry Odette?_

Now, he's standing in the doorway with her answer, but she can't speak or breathe or move. She thinks about the life growing inside her and she feels her body turn to stone. She doesn't know what to do now.

"What do you ...? I never asked ..."

She can't finish a sentence so she stops speaking. Logan smirks, dimples flashing, but the expression doesn't reach his eyes.

He juts his chin forward, "Can I come in?"

Rory swallows and steps back, gesturing for Logan to enter. She still doesn't trust herself to speak. She guides him into the living room, where there's still couches for them to sit on. She notices his eyes flicking around the house — taking in the stripped down walls and packed boxes — and filing away questions to ask later. She decides to answer them now.

"My grandma moved to Nantucket," she says, as casually as possible. "She's selling the house as soon as I finish my book."

"So you got Lorelai's blessing?"

"I did."

He smiles, "That's great. It's going to be great."

The words warm her and she forces the feeling down. She knows she has to tell him she's pregnant, now that he's here. She has to tell him because it seems like he came for her, and she can't let him do that without knowing everything. Will he bolt? Does she even want him to stay? She forces herself to breathe and takes a seat, waiting for him to do the same. He doesn't.

Instead, he says, "I love you, Rory. I don't know what the hell I was thinking."

"Logan—"

"Let me finish, please," he walks over now, sits down next to her. "I was terrified of loving you again. I couldn't lose you again. I don't know why it took me until now to realize that if I never tried, I would lose you anyway."

"What about Odette? Your family?"

"I don't care about them," he says, angling his body toward her. "I care about you. I want you. I'm not asking you to marry me. I just ... I need ... Just tell me if you feel the same way."

Rory squeezes her eyes shut, forcing the tears back. She doesn't want to cry. It's everything she hoped for, him sitting next to her like this, saying these things. Everything in her is screaming to tell him that she does, to kiss him, to never let him leave again. But she's going to have a baby. Maybe. And that changes everything. The decision she'd been dreading is suddenly here. She can lie, say she doesn't love them, and let him leave. Or she can tell him he's going to be a father and see where that road leads.

She stares, locking eyes with him as she searches for an answer. She told Lorelai a long time ago that Logan's eyes were the window to his soul, that she could tell exactly what he was thinking with a single glance. Looking into them now, she knows she can't lie to him.

He loves her.

Rory holds his gaze for a moment longer, memorizing every line on his face. She remembers how he framed her face, right before he walked away for what was supposed to be the final time. Rory does that now — silently, privately — before she opens her mouth to speak.

"Logan," she says, forcing the words past the lump in her throat. "I'm pregnant."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes:** Wow, I am overwhelmed by the response to this story and it was nice to see some familiar usernames from years ago. Thank you all so much! There will be at least one more chapter, maybe two. I have a few things I want to get in here yet.

* * *

The room goes still.

Rory's eyes stay locked on Logan, who's staring right through her. She imagines she looked the same way when the strip on the pregnancy test turned pink, so she gives him a minute to adjust to the new reality. She tries to stop herself from wondering what he'll say, how he'll react. Getting her hopes up hasn't served her well, at least not lately.

Logan slowly refocuses his eyes on her, clears his throat.

"You're pregnant?"

"I'm pregnant."

"With a baby."

Rory chokes on a laugh, but it sounds like a sob, "God, I hope so."

Logan rubs a hand across his forehead, "I'm sorry, I just—"

"Need a minute," Rory finishes. "Take your time. I had a similar phase. I might still be in it, actually."

Logan leans back on the couch. She watches him, waiting for some kind of insight into how he's feeling. But the shock is so fresh that it's the only thing she can see written on his face.

"Have you been to the doctor? Is everything okay?"

It's not what she expects him to say, but it makes her smile, "Everything's okay."

"I don't know if I can ask this question," he pauses. "I don't want to offend you. Is it ...?"

She nods, "It's yours."

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have asked that I—"

"Logan," she risks reaching out, resting a hand on his. "It's fine. It's okay."

"Okay."

"Okay."

He pauses, "How long have you known?"

"About a month."

"When were you going to tell me?" he asks, his voice barely above a whisper.

Her heart clenches. She can't lie, "I was still figuring that out."

"Okay," he says again.

"Okay?"

"Our situation was ... complicated," he says, and leaves it at that.

Silence consumes them again. Rory picks at some loose fabric at the edge of the couch, wondering briefly if her grandmother knows it's ripping, not that it matters anymore. She doesn't realize her hand is still touching Logan's until he takes it. Something inside of her flutters at the feeling.

She turns back to face him. There's a small smile on his lips. It's cautious, but it's real.

"We're going to be parents?"

She swallows, "I don't expect anything from you if I have this baby. If you don't want to be involved—"

He furrows his brow, "I don't want to be involved I—"

"Oh," she pulls her hand back quickly, standing up from the couch. "That's okay. That's fine. I just wanted you to know."

Logan stands up, reaching out to grab her wrist before he can leave the room. She stops, trying to calm the rush in her ears, the pounding of her heart. She thought she was prepared to hear those words, but actually hearing them is like hitting the ground after a long fall: Maybe she shouldn't have been shocked, maybe she should've seen it coming, but she still hoped for a parachute.

"Rory," his voice is firm. "Let me finish."

The tears come so suddenly she doesn't even have a chance to hold them back. Rory doesn't want him to see her cry, not over this. She'd told herself she didn't need him to raise this child. She doesn't even know if she wants to raise this child. But somehow, the disappointment is still overwhelming. It's thick and fierce and suffocating. She pulls her arm away. She needs to leave.

"It's fine, but I think you should go for now and—"

"Rory, I was saying I don't want to be involved because that's not all I want. I don't want to be on the edges. I want to be a father," Logan fires the words quickly, like he can tell she's on the verge of cracking. "Even if you don't want me, I want to be there for my kid. Our kid."

Rory doesn't move. She lets the words settle over her, and she wonders if Logan really doesn't know how much she loves him. But before she can get to that, there's something else she has to say. She turns back around, trying to ignore the emotion she sees in his eyes. She doesn't think he caught her previous clarifier, so repeats it.

"I said if."

Logan's confused expression asks the question for him.

"I said _if_ I have this baby," she says.

He releases a long breath, "Oh."

"Yeah," she sits back down on the couch. "Oh."

He stays standing, unmoving. She can't believe she's actually having this conversation, the one that's played over and over again in her head since the second she found out. It's surreal, and just as difficult as she imagined.

She wants to be a mother, but she never pictured it like this. In her head, she's a successful journalist, married, stable. She has her own home and a steady income and boxes of her belongings aren't spread up and down the East Coast. She certainly isn't unemployed and writing a book she isn't sure will even sell. The father of her child isn't a man she had an affair with, although in her imagination it's still Logan. It's always Logan.

"It's not right," the words come out in a whisper. "I can't do this now. I can barely take care of myself."

She's staring at the ground, but she feels the couch shift so she knows Logan moved to sit beside her.

"That's not true," he says, his voice low.

"It is," she forces the words out, but her throat is closing up. "How can I do this? I don't even have a job. I have no income. I have nowhere to live. I know my mother did this at 16 but I'm not my mother and I can't do this. I don't think I can do this."

"Rory—"

She stands up and starts to pace, because she needs to do something, "I want to be excited about this. I've always wanted kids! And I'm 32, it's not like I can wait forever. But it's not supposed to be like this. I haven't done anything yet. I haven't been the person I wanted to be. I'm not done. I want more."

It's the first time she says all of her worries out loud. She suddenly feels inadequate and very, very small.

"Rory," Logan stands up, grabbing both of her arms and forcing her to stand still. "Having a baby doesn't mean you have to be done. You want to chase journalism again? Do it."

"I can't do that."

"Why not?" he asks and brushes away a stray tear, letting his hand linger on her face for just a moment.

"I can't be following stories around when I have baby," she says. "I have to be there."

"I can be there when you're not," he pauses, waits for her to look at him, "and I can be there when you are. Look, whatever you want to do, I'll support you. But if you want this baby, I'm going to be there. You don't have to do it alone. You'll never have to do it alone. You can have it all. I promise."

Her body reacts before her mind can catch up: Arms around his neck, lips on his. She feels his arms encircle her waist: Sturdy and strong. Hers. She lets herself sink into it for a moment, this feeling of kissing him again. He hadn't been gone for long, but she missed him more than she realized. Having him here, holding him, kissing him — she feels her life snapping back into focus. There's finally someone putting pressure on the wound.

She pulls back, leans her forehead against his. His eyes are still closed, but she knows he's waiting for her to speak. He won't push. He knows her better than that.

Is he right? Can she really have it all? She puts the pieces together in her mind: Him and her, a child, a house, a career. It's so natural, to picture it. Like it should have been that way all along. She can do this. With Logan, she can do this. He's always had a way of making her feel like she can do anything.

She steps away, places a hand against her stomach. For the first time since she found out about the pregnancy, the action isn't followed by breathtaking fear. She imagines raising a child of her own, imagines Logan as a father ... and she smiles.

"I want to keep it," she says quietly, and she sees him holding back a grin.

"Are you sure?"

She looks at him,, "You jump, I jump, Jack."

He smiles, and she sees moisture in his eyes. His emotion is enough to make her eyes well up again, too, and he pulls her into him. She rests her head against his chest, listening to the familiar thud of his heartbeat. If this isn't real, and she really is asleep in Richard's study, she doesn't want to wake up.

"Hey, Logan," she says, her words muffled against his shirt.

"Yeah, Ace?"

"I love you, too."

* * *

Two months later, they've started to sort things out. Mitchum called 27 times after Logan told him he was cancelling the wedding and leaving the Huntzberger Publishing Group — again. His mother hung up in the middle of his sentence. Honor was so excited Logan was sure she was going to climb through the phone to come celebrate. She made it a week, then she showed up to take Rory shopping and bought them a crib.

Logan landed a job at a digital media company in New York City, and they moved into a three-bedroom house in Queens two weeks ago. It's modest, by Huntzberger standards, but it has a study with built-in bookshelves that Rory loves. Logan refuses to deny her anything. Not anymore.

He watches her face for signs of the terrified woman who first told him she was pregnant. She still gets worried sometimes. But she spends more time planning out the nursery — as much as they can before they learn the sex of the child at their next appointment — and deciding on baby names. More often than not, she's working on her book in the study. Not only is she almost finished, but she also somehow found the time to write another feature for The New Yorker. He lives in awe of her.

Once every two weeks, he makes the trip to Stars Hollow to meet with Lorelai. Rory doesn't know. When the three of them are together, Lorelai is forced, over-the-top polite to make up for the fact that she doesn't trust him, or like him, for that matter. It doesn't fool him, and it certainly doesn't fool Rory. So, he goes to Stars Hollow. They sit at her house or Luke's and they talk. She's yelled at him more than a few times. He always takes it, and she's starting to allow him to explain himself. It's torturous and embarrassing, but he knows it's important to Rory, so he's made it important to him.

He spends every waking moment worried about Rory, trying to make sure she's comfortable and safe and happy. He hardly has time, in between it all, to really think about what's headed straight for him. When it does hit him, it's usually in the middle of the night, with Rory sound asleep beside him. That's how he ends up here, leaning against the doorway of the half-decorated nursery at 3 a.m., arms folded across his chest. He feels the panic rising in him like a wave and he's not sure he can calm it this time.

He doesn't know how to be a father. Everytime he pictures having a child, that's all he can think about. He knows he doesn't want to be like Mitchum, but that's all he knows. He's always been a great improviser, but he doesn't think that will work now. Whenever he can, Logan channels the man who comforted Rory two months ago. That man was strong and sure and capable. That man was a fake, and Logan's just counting the days until Rory figures that out.

Nothing in Logan's life ever prepared him for this. He doesn't know what the hell he's doing. He was raised by nannies, not parents. Certainly not his father. He wants a family so badly. When Rory told him she was pregnant, he was shocked and scared. But then there was rush of joy, and it overwhelmed all of that. He's going to have a kid. He's going to have a kid with Rory. He didn't realize how much he wanted it until it was handed to him. He just wishes he had a clue what to do now.

"Hey, what are you doing up?"

He doesn't hear Rory until she's behind him. She presses her hand against the small of his back as she passes to lean against the other side of the doorway. He tries to school his face into an impartial mask, but he knows he failed at fooling her as soon as her brow furrows.

"What's wrong?" she asks, reaching out to squeeze his hand when his only response is silence. "Talk to me."

He sighs, turning his eyes toward the room instead of looking at her. She waits: Quietly, patiently. He knows he won't be able to brush this off now. Logan doesn't want to add to her worries, but the words leave his mouth before he can stop them.

"I don't know how to do this, Ace. I can't be a father."

"What are you talking about?"

She pushes off the wall, stands in front of him so he's forced to look at her. It's amazing, really, how she can still take his breath away. Even in the middle of the night, dressed in a robe and pajamas with her hair sloppily piled on top of her head, she's the most beautiful woman he's ever seen.

"I have no frame of reference for this," he says quietly. "I hardly even saw my father growing up. I forgot what he looked like half the time. You had Lorelai. I had an empty house."

"Logan..."

He sucks in a breath, "I want to do this right. I don't want to be—"

"You're not Mitchum," she cuts him off before he can finish his sentence. "You're nothing like Mitchum."

"I have his eyes."

"Logan."

"His hair, his nose—"

"Logan."

"Some people say we have the same chin but I don't know if I see it."

She smiles a little then, but it's fleeting, "Stop it."

He lets out a long breath, "There's only so much old episodes of Boy Meets World can teach you, Ace. I'm driving without a map here."

She raises her eyebrows, "You're basing your parenting style off Boy Meets World? I mean there are worse options, I guess. But really, Boy Meets World?"

"It's heart-warming," he smirks, "and charming."

"And when our life gets a laugh track it'll be super helpful."

She takes a step into the nursery, picks up a teddy bear Logan bought a few days ago. She stares at for a moment, then turns around to look at him again, holding the bear against her chest.

"Mitchum would've never done this," she says. "He never would've been caught dead in a children's store. I bet he never ran out to get Sheila pistachio ice cream at 2:30 in the morning. And if his old girlfriend told him she was pregnant, the only thing left would be a Mitchum-shaped hole in her door. Logan, you've been taking care of me since I told you we were having a baby. Before that, even. You are nothing like your father."

"But that's you, that's not a kid," he pauses, unsure if he wants to open the next door. "If I wouldn't have shown up, would you have even told me?"

Her face freezes. She sets the bear down, steps forward so she can cup his cheek in her hand. She stares at him for a long moment, so long that Logan wonders if she's even going to answer. He's not sure if he wants her to answer. The question has been bugging her for months, but he tucked it somewhere behind his anxiety about becoming a father and pushed forward. Now, he thinks he needs a response.

"I was a wreck," she finally says. "I didn't know which way was up. If you didn't come back, if you didn't want this or you didn't want me, I don't know if I would've been able to handle it. We were a mess, Logan. You were a mess, and I think you know that."

He swallows, "I do."

"I'm sorry," she says, and her eyes are bright. "It would've been a mistake not to tell you."

"Yeah?"

She takes a breath, "Do you remember when you decided to be my boyfriend?"

The question catches him off guard, but he answers, "Of course."

"You'd never had a girlfriend before," she reminds him, brushing her thumb against his cheek. "You didn't know what to do. You told me later you thought it would be hard, but it wasn't. I'm not telling you this won't be hard, but you said you would be there and I believe you. I believe in you. You're going to be great."

He takes her hand, raises it to his lips, "You sure?"

"I'm sure," she goes quiet for a moment. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Shoot."

"What took you so long to leave Odette?"

He tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, considering his words carefully. Apparently this is the night to bring everything into the open. He steels himself.

"I didn't know if you wanted something real with me," he says. "After the proposal ..."

He lets his voice trail off, hoping she'll understand. She does. Of course she does.

"It wasn't because you," she says. "I loved you then. I love you now. I just wasn't ready."

"I know."

"That's why I never asked you to leave her," she says. "I didn't think I had that right."

He brushes his lips against her forehead. She leans into the touch, "You did."

He finds himself — not for the first time and certainly not the last — overwhelmed by how much he loves her. It's the feeling she gives him that does it, that sensation of being grounded. He never gets it unless he's around her. Before Rory, Logan spent so much of his life toeing the line, figuring out how close he could get to the edge before he slipped over. He always felt like he was one moment away from falling. He never learned how to stand still, to want things. Then he met Rory. Now, he wants to stand still with her for the rest of his life.

"I love you, Ace."

She smiles, "You're not so bad yourself, Huntzberger."


	3. Chapter 3

**Note:** Thank you again for all the support and feedback for this story! It's been cathartic for me to write this, and I can only hope it's been cathartic for some of you as well. I might be back to play with these characters some more in different story. I have some ideas floating around. But, for now, this is the third and final chapter.

* * *

Emily Lorelai Huntzberger-Gilmore — Emma for short — is born early on a Sunday morning. She's healthy and perfect, in Logan's completely unbiased opinion, with a tuft of blonde hair and a pair of blue eyes that match her mother's. Logan didn't know it was possible to love someone so much so fast. Now that it's happened, he wonders how he ended up with that ability when it doesn't seem to run in his family.

Logan shifts in his chair and leans over, gently running a hand over his sleeping girlfriend's hair. She finally gave in fifteen minutes ago after making the nurses promise to return Emma to her as soon as possible. Luke had taken Lorelai for coffee, the other visitors had filtered out, and Honor is still a few minutes away, so Logan finally has a minute to breathe and sit with Rory alone. He doesn't know if it's really sunk in yet: That he's a father, that they're parents. He's sure it will when he's up in the middle of the night with a screaming baby for the first time. Right now, all he can feel is a deep contentment, like this is exactly where he should've ended up all along. For the first time in his life, he feels like did something completely right.

A movement in the doorway catches his eye, and he finds Honor waving frantically and silently. With a smile, he leans over to place a kiss on Rory's forehead and then heads over to greet his sister. She wraps him in a hug immediately, and he knows it's taking everything she has not to squeal and wake Rory. Logan closes the door behind him just in case.

"You're a dad," Honor says, her voice impressively quiet. "How does it feel?"

"Surreal. Terrifying."

"I remember that feeling," she says. "Speaking of which, the kids are excited to meet their cousin."

"You'll have to bring them over as soon as we get home," Logan says, gesturing down the hallway. "Do you want to meet her?"

"You don't think I drove all this way to look at your face, do you?"

Logan laughs, draping an arm over his sister's shoulder as they head toward the nursery, "So, where's Josh?"

"With the kids," Honor sighs. "Our babysitter has the flu and we couldn't find another one on such short notice. He made me swear to take a million pictures, like I wouldn't have done that anyway."

Logan stops next to the huge nursery window, pointing to the bassinet that's second to the left, "There she is."

"Logan, she's beautiful," Honor breathes, turning from him to Emma with a smile. "She looks like you."

"She looks like her mother."

Honor shakes her head, "She has Rory's eyes, but she looks like you."

Emma shifts in her sleep, bringing a fist up to rest next to her head. Logan feels a now-familiar lump in his throat. Somehow, that one tiny movement is the most incredible thing he's ever seen.

Honor turns, leaning against the window with her arms folded across her chest, "I am so glad this isn't Odette's baby."

"Honor!"

"I'm sorry!" she looks sincere for a moment before breaking into a grin. "No, I'm not. It was always supposed to be Rory. And honestly, I couldn't carry on a conversation with Odette. Going shopping with her felt like going to the brig."

Logan smirks, "Well, as long as you're happy, that's all that matters."

"I'm glad we've established that," she's silent for a moment. "Are you? Happy?"

Logan turns his eyes toward Emma, who just opened her eyes, and feels a warmth wash over him, "I really am."

The nurse pops her head out, asking if Logan wants to visit his daughter. Honor jumps all over her immediately, enthusiastically explaining that she's the aunt. Logan gives the nurse a nod of confirmation. He's about to follow Honor when he catches a glimpse of Lorelai out of the corner of his eye.

He holds up a hand to Honor, "Go on, get acquainted. I'll be there in a second."

Honor steps into the nursery and Logan turns to face Lorelai. Their relationship has gotten better over the past few months, the meetings in Stars Hollow becoming more like visits than interrogations. It's made Rory happy, helped her relax. That's all Logan really wanted, but it's been nice getting to know Lorelai, too.

Lorelai steps up beside him, her eyes on Honor as she scoops up Emma, "Your sister?"

"Yep."

Lorelai smiles, "It's good that she's here."

"She'll spoil Emma rotten," Logan says. "I'm going to have to stop her from buying her a pony for her first birthday."

"I always wanted a pony."

"Well, I'll see if she'll get you one, too. She's in a very good mood."

They settle into a comfortable silence. It's amazing, really, how much Logan's life has changed over the past few months. It's been a whirlwind, but one he wouldn't give back for the world. They are still living in the house in Queens, and Rory finished writing her book three weeks ago. Jess Mariano is editing, and then she'll send out query letters. It bothered him at first, to have her book in Jess' hands. But he's trying to be a bigger — and better — person now. The two men certainly aren't friends, but they're civil for Rory's sake.

He hasn't spoken to his parents since his mother hung up on him. He has to admit, it hurts they aren't here to meet their grandchild, that they don't care about his life now that it doesn't fit into their plan. But he has his own family now: Rory and Emma, Honor, Colin, Robert and Finn, even Lorelai and Luke. It's enough. It's more than enough. He'll do this differently than his father. He'll do it better.

"You know," Lorelai says, breaking the silence. "I wasn't happy it was you, in the beginning."

Logan chuckles, his eyes never leaving Honor and Emma. "Oh, I know."

She touches his arm, and he turns to her.

"I am now," she says, offering him a smile. "I'm really happy it's you."

After Honor leaves, Logan makes his way back to Rory's room. Lorelai and Luke went home for the night, so it's just them. Logan's happy to have her to himself for awhile.

"Hey, Ace," he says as he walks in. "How do you feel?"

"Exhausted."

Logan greets her with a kiss. "You had a big day."

"I now understand what my mother meant. Giving birth really does feel like doing the splits on a crate of dynamite."

Logan laughs. "Now that's some imagery."

"My mom said Honor was here. You should've woken me up."

"Not a chance," he says, settling into the chair beside her bed. "She's going to bring the kids over as soon as we get home. And she might be buying Emma a car, I'm not sure."

"Well, as long as it's not a gas guzzler," Rory says, before her lips turn into a fond smile. "How is Emma? The nurse said she's sleeping."

"She is," Logan reaches out, threading his fingers through Rory's. "She's good. She's perfect."

"She is, isn't she?"

Rory sighs, leaning back against the hospital bed. She still looks tired, but happy.

She turns her head toward him, "How are you feeling, daddy?"

"Like I can't believe I'm going to be in charge of something that small."

"Right there with you," she says. "But we can do this. It'll be good."

"It'll be good," he agrees. "You should get more sleep."

She yawns, nods, "You know what I'm most excited about?"

"What's that?"

"Being able to drink coffee again."

Logan laughs, "I'm sure our daughter will be very happy to hear that was the highlight of her birth."

Rory closes her eyes, a smile playing on her lips, "Go ahead and tell her. She'll never believe you."

Logan chuckles and leans back in his chair, watching as Rory drifts back to sleep. Not for the first time since he came back for Rory, he can't believe this is his life, that it all worked out this way. He never knew he could enjoy a routine so much, but settling back into one with Rory has been as exhilarating as any Life and Death Brigade event. He doesn't feel like the need to run anymore, he doesn't feel trapped. He doesn't need an escape hatch. He hasn't felt that way for a long time, not since Rory moved in with him for the first time more than 10 years ago. Having her back, getting that life back, feels a lot like coming home.

He bought a ring, different from the one he gave her the first time he proposed. He asked for Lorelai's blessing, again. This time, she actually smiled when she gave it. He took her shopping with him this time, too. The ring's hidden in his office while he waits for the right time to ask. Even though he knows it's different this time — that they've already committed to spending the rest of their lives together, that they have a daughter — there's still a certain anxiety that comes when he thinks about it. Logan will do it differently this time, privately. He learned his lesson. The gesture, though, will still be grand.

He knows she doesn't care, but she deserves something grand.

* * *

They get married just after Emma turns seven months old. It's a small wedding, held at Lorelai's new inn. The whole town comes. None of them would accept that Logan and Rory wanted an intimate celebration. But it's still perfect, everything Rory could have hoped for. She even manages to get Luke and her dad to get along long enough to walk her down the aisle together.

She still smiles when she thinks back to Logan's second proposal. It was perfect, too. He bought out the rooftop of a local bar, decorating it with swaths of fabric and hundreds of lights. He'd been so nervous, so she said yes as quickly as possible, barely letting him ask the question. It wasn't like the last time. It was thousand miles away from the last time.

Rory leans back in her chair, watching as the reception carries on around her. Logan is standing a few feet away, Emma propped on his hip, talking to Colin, Finn and Robert. Finn glances over, catching her eye, and she offers him a grin and a small wave. They'd all flown in to see Emma soon after she was born, and were more than willing to fly back for the wedding a few months later. She's happy to have them around, happier still that they are there for Logan. He'll never admit it, but cutting ties with his family again, regardless of how terrible they are, has been difficult on him. His makeshift family, and Honor, help fill the void. They show up for all the milestones his parents should be there for.

"Having fun?" Logan appears beside her, shifting Emma so he can lean down to give her a kiss.

"Just wondering how long the boys are going to wait before introducing Emma to beer pong."

Logan smirks, holding out his hand to help her up, "Oh, come on, Ace. They'll at least wait until she can walk. Until then, it's strictly beer funnels and poker."

"Of course. My mistake," Rory reaches out, running a hand over Emma's hair. "Somebody looks like she's getting sleepy. I think my grandma was going to take her for the night."

Right on cue, Emily Gilmore steps up beside Logan, holding out her arms for her namesake. She's smiling, happier than Rory's seen her look since Richard's death. She absolutely adores Emma, buying her more toys and clothes than she could possibly need — and that can fit in their house. Between Emily and Honor, Rory thinks they're going to have to move soon just to fit all of Emma's things.

Logan looks reluctant to let her go, and it fills Rory with warmth. For all his fear about being a good father, he stepped seamlessly into the role. He spends his evenings playing with Emma on the floor, their laughter echoing through the hallways. Some nights, he's the only one that can get her to sleep. She falls asleep on his chest, tiny hands twisted in his shirt. They take turns waking up with her at night, even though only Logan has to get up early for work. He never complains. Rory has followed him more than a few times, just to watch him rock back and forth, humming a tuneless song until Emma quiets. She can't believe she ever wondered if he'd be like Christopher.

She's been surprised at how naturally motherhood has come to her, too. She loves spending the days in her study, working on stories with Emma sleeping in her crib or playing on the floor. They take walks around the neighborhood, have lunch at the local cafe. Rory's book will be coming out within the next month. She can hardly wait to get her hands on the first shipment. In the meantime, she's picked up consistent freelance work for the first time in years. The New Yorker offered a full time position starting in a few months, and she happily accepted. Logan was right. She can have it all.

It's unbelievable, really, how everything in her life fell into place as soon as Logan arrived at her grandparents' door. She's happy. It's strange, to feel happiness without any clarifiers. She was happy on the campaign trail, but she didn't have Logan. She was happy when she was with Logan again, but he was with Odette. Now, she's just happy. Plain and simple. It feels good. It feels right.

"Thank you, grandma," Rory says, reaching out to give both Emily and Emma kiss on the cheek.

"You're welcome, Rory. It was a lovely wedding. You look beautiful," she turns to Logan. "And you look quite handsome. I'm very happy for both of you."

Emily smiles, then turns toward the stairs, rubbing Emma's back as she walks. Logan and Rory both watch the pair until they disappear, then they turn back to face each other.

"What do we do now?" Logan asks.

"What did we do before we had Emma?"

Logan holds out his hand, "Dance?"

"I'm still a terrible dancer. Emma hasn't changed that."

Logan laughs, guiding her toward the dance floor, "It's okay. I make you look good."

"That's why I married you," Rory says. "Your modesty."

Logan takes her into his arms, and Rory can't help but think about the first time they danced together: The night she kissed him for the first time. They've come so far. Back then, he was just the attractive blonde boy with a magnetic personality and a newspaper tycoon father. He appealed to her because he helped her out of her comfort zone, held her hand as she did things she wouldn't have been brave enough to do on her own. He still did that. They fill in each other's gaps, make up the difference where the other is lacking. They've somehow found the perfect balance between comforting and exhilarating. Never boring.

Lorelai finally told her about the meetings with Logan, although Rory had already guessed. It doesn't surprise her that Logan would put himself through that. He'd always been willing to enter into uncomfortable situations to make Rory happy, more often that not with Lorelai. She doesn't quite know how to thank him for that. He doesn't understand the connection she has with Lorelai, nobody really does. But he knows it's important. That's enough.

"What's on your mind, Ace?" Logan asks.

"Are you ever going to ask me out?" she says by way of reply.

She knows he'll get the reference.

He chuckles, "I was right about one thing that night."

"Oh, yeah?" she rests her head on his shoulder. "What's that?"

"You are special."

She smiles, brushes her lips against his cheek, "So cheesy. You've lost your game in your old age, Huntzberger"

"Hey, I don't have to woo you anymore," he says. "We're married, and I'm a dad. All I have to do is watch football in my underwear."

"Mitchum watched a lot of football in his underwear, did he?" Rory says. "I have a hard time picturing that."

She can't see him, but she knows Logan makes a face, "I don't want to picture that."

Before she can respond, he steps back, twirling her around. The reception is starting to clear out, only their closest family and friends remain. Soon, there will be nothing left but leftover cake and drooping decorations. Rory is almost more excited for the after. The wedding was nice, but she just wants to get back to her life with Logan and Emma. After the honeymoon that is.

They decided to take the lost trip, the one they missed because life got in the way: Two weeks in Asia while Lorelai and Luke watch Emma. Rory dug all of her old books out of her room. It felt like entering a time capsule, flipping through the pages to find the carefully placed post-it notes and highlighted passages. The one thing that hasn't changed since then is the two of them. They just keep choosing each other.

"Okay," Logan says, stopping the dance suddenly. "Come on."

"Come on where?" she asks as he grabs her hand, tugging her off the dance floor.

"It's a surprise."

Rory grabs her jacket as he tosses it to her, "A surprise? Logan, it's our wedding!"

"And would it really be our wedding if there wasn't a surprise?"

Rory rolls her eyes, but she smiles as they step outside, "I guess I couldn't ask for a nice, normal wedding night."

"Never," he grins, kissing her before pointing at the black car parked in front of the inn. "That's our ride."

"Our ride? Aren't we staying here tonight?"

"Nope."

She can't help but laugh, at how unpredictable yet predictable it all is. She can't believe she ended up with someone like Logan after spending her life planning every single detail, every little step. Logan never met a spontaneous adventure he didn't like and before she met him, Rory didn't have a spontaneous bone in her body. He sparked something in her. She always craved adventure, always wanted to see the world. He gives her permission to do that, stands by her side while she crosses the line without ever pushing her over. Loving him is like a breath of fresh air.

Logan holds open the door to the passenger seat and Rory kisses him before sliding in, settling into the black leather. He climbs in beside her, starting the engine before turning to her with a grin.

"Ready, Ace?"

She nods, turning her eyes forward, "Let's go."

 _Fin._


End file.
